


Lavender's Blue

by RedRowan



Series: Stars and Horns [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Canon Disabled Character, F/M, Female Matt Murdock, Fluff, Rule 63, Summer Vacation, girl!Matt Murdock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 17:40:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7693489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRowan/pseuds/RedRowan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Mattie manage to get away for a romantic weekend in France.  Featuring wine, cheese, and sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lavender's Blue

_Lavender’s green, dilly dilly,_  
_Lavender’s blue._  
_If you love me, dilly dilly,_  
_I will love you._  
_Let the birds sing, dilly dilly,_  
_And the lambs play._  
_We shall be safe, dilly dilly,_  
_Out of harm’s way._

_It’s a great cottage_ , Steve thinks.

He’s in the middle of Provence, on the edge of a vineyard owned by a contact of Clint and Natasha’s from their SHIELD days. The cottage belongs to Alain too, but he used to let Clint and Nat use it as a safe house (after SHIELD fell and Clint and Nat didn’t need safe houses as often, Alain started renting it out on AirBnB). 

“I used to take Laura there, before we had the kids, she loved it,” Clint had said.

There is lavender and rosemary growing under the windows, and roses climbing over the walls, and Steve will never doubt Clint’s sense of romance ever again. He cuts some of the flowers to put in the bedroom.

This weekend is a gift from Clint and Natasha to Mattie for getting their charges dropped. If anyone asks, Alain has rented the cottage to a rich American lady, who paid in cash, and who has a driver coming to look after her needs. Alain has already stocked the kitchen for them with wine and groceries, and told Steve to call him if they need anything else.

Mattie’s train from Nice is arriving soon, so Steve changes his shirt and drives into town to meet her. The sun is beating down, giving everything a hazy golden glow, and when she steps off the train, Steve could believe that she had a halo around her.

As per Nat’s instructions, she’s lightly disguised. She’s swapped her usual red glasses for a fashionable pair of big, black sunglasses, and a silk scarf covers her hair. She’s not using her cane, and she’s moving like a sighted person, coming straight for him. She stops just within arm’s reach, and smiles, and all he wants to do is close the gap. But they’re in public.

“Mademoiselle Peyton,” he says respectfully, using the name Natasha booked everything under.

“Mr Hendrick,” she says softly.

“Let me take that.” He reaches for the bag slung over her shoulder, and makes sure that his hand brushes hers when he takes it. The corner of her mouth turns up, and his stomach flips. “Right this way, mademoiselle.” He leads her to the car he parked across the street, and holds the door for her to climb in the back before putting her bag in the trunk. When he climbs in the driver seat, she’s grinning, sliding the scarf off her hair.

“These tinted?” she says, knocking on the window.

“Nope. Don’t worry, the town’s not that big.”

She sighs, and he pulls out, driving through the town toward Alain’s vineyard. Once they’re out in the countryside (five minutes, it feels like five hours), he pulls over to the side of the road.

“OK, nobody can see us.”

And she’s on him, launching herself into the space between the front seats, nearly getting stuck, but winding up sitting sideways on his lap with her tongue in his mouth and one foot wedged against the passenger seat. There’s “I missed you,” and “I love you,” murmured, but the words don’t matter because Steve has his arms around her, and he thinks, _she’s here, and she’s mine_.

“Fuck,” she sighs against his mouth. She sits back, her hand still on his face. “So the beard’s new.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve kind of gotten used to it.” Natasha had told him to grow one when they’d left Wakanda along with -

“And you dyed your hair.” She runs her fingers through it.

“How’d you know?”

“I can smell it. What color is it?”

“It’s uh…reddy-brown?”

She laughs at that, leaning her forehead against his. “Yup, that’s the artist, right there,” she says.

“Nat made us all do something like that. She’s blonde, now.”

“And I’m sure she’s pulling it off fabulously.” She gives him one last kiss, then she’s awkwardly trying to maneuver herself into the passenger seat. It’s a process that involves at least one instance of her elbowing him, and having to brace herself against the roof. It’s a good thing she’s flexible. Once she’s settled, he starts the car again. “So where’s Sam?”

“St Tropez with Nat. They’re planning on lying on a beach all weekend.”

“Nat’s still with you guys?”

“Yeah. She said that since you got the charges dropped, she has to start working on racking up some real ones.” Mattie groans. “Hey, you knew what you were getting into when you took us on.”

“Are you guys just trying to give me more work?”

“I like to think of it as more excuses to be with you.”

“Smooth, Rogers. So, did Wanda go back to Sokovia?”

“No, she’s staying with Clint while she figures things out.”

“In…Iowa? Which is in the country that revoked her visa?”

“Yup. Don’t think Clint has ever really paid much attention to immigration laws.”

“If she gets deported, I’m not lifting a goddamn finger.”

“I think we would all understand that,” he says dryly, knowing that she’s lying. “So, how was your flight?”

He listens to her complain about airplanes and passengers, and airplanes again (Mattie has a lot of opinions about airplanes). She admits that she’s tired, but the cottage is in view before Steve can tell her that she can nap.

“This place smells _amazing_ ,” she breathes as she steps out of the car.

“There’s flowers all in front of the house and climbing up the walls. Everything’s in bloom, it’s…” _Romantic._ “Gorgeous.”

“How did Clint and Nat find this place?”

“He’s a contact from when they were working for SHIELD.” Steve grins. “Apparently, his dad was in the French Resistance during the war.”

Mattie pauses, and then he sees the recognition pass across her face.

“Peggy,” she says.

“Then Fury, who passed the contact along to Clint and Nat. As far as we know, they’re the only ones who ever knew about this place.”

She reaches out and he takes her hand.

“So show me around,” she says.

The cottage isn’t big; there’s a main room with a kitchen and a small living area, then the bedroom and the bathroom. Steve is just putting Mattie’s bag down in the bedroom, and about to offer to open a bottle of wine, when she twines her arms around his neck and kisses him again.

“Oh, did you have something in mind?” he teases.

“ _Hell_ , yes,” she says.

“You sure you don’t want to take a walk? The vineyard -“

She cuts him off with her mouth on his, which is the best way to cut him off.

“Steve,” she says. “I was _this_ close to fucking you in the car. You better start tearing my clothes off _right now_.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Their shirts are gone before they hit the bed, and he’s moving his lips over her throat when she starts to giggle.

“Sorry! It’s the beard,” she laughs as he lifts his head.

“You don’t like it.”

“I’m…on the fence right now?” She runs her nails over it, then her fingertips are on his lips, and he lets her feel him grin before he surges forward to nuzzle at her cheek with his. She yelps and laughs. “Agh! Stop it!” She smacks his shoulder, and he grabs her wrists, holding her down as he brushes his hairy cheek over the soft skin of her throat, then down to her breasts, making her giggle. “Oh, my God, you’re _scent-marking_ me.”

“Technically, you’re the only one who can smell it.” He buries his nose in her cleavage, thinking how much he’s missed her, the smell of her.

“And now you’re sniffing me. You’re _so_ weird.” 

He looks up, and she’s smiling, so he lets her wrists go so he can kiss her properly, wrapping his arms around her and feeling the warmth of her skin against his. Her hands slide over his back, one trailing down to slide inside the waistband of his jeans and grab his ass. He nudges at her nose with his.

“I missed you,” he says.

“Missed you, too.”

He reaches down to unbutton her jeans, and slides his hand in, finding her clit in the slick heat between her legs. She sighs, leaning her head back as he strokes her, groaning when he pulls his hand out of her pants so he can take them off her. He goes back to work once he has her naked, stroking and fingering, making her writhe. She clutches at him, and he lets her pull him down until he knows she’s close. He sits back on his knees, taking his hand away.

“Ugh, you son of a _bitch_ ,” she groans.

“Language.”

She laughs at that, and then she’s sitting up, her legs spread wide, and she runs her hand up his thigh to his belt.

“I’m sorry…” she says coyly, kissing his chest as she unbuckles his belt. “Was that unladylike of me?”

He chuckles, and holds her against him for a moment, feeling her breath against his skin. He strokes her hair. _She’s here, and she’s mine._

“I love you,” he whispers.

She hums thoughtfully as she presses her lips against his abs. She unzips his jeans and reaches in, making him gasp when she grips him, half-hard already, and pumping gently until he’s fully erect and desperate for her. And she knows, of course she knows, when he reaches the boiling point, and she pulls her hand out and helps him strip off his jeans and boxers.

“Did you -“ she starts.

“Yeah, I brought some,” he says, reaching past her to find the box of condoms in the bedside table.

“Finally, he learns,” she teases.

“What?” he says as he puts on a condom. “Did you think I’d take you on a romantic weekend in France, and not bring them?”

She grins, and traces her foot up his side, until it’s resting on his shoulder.

“Romantic, huh?” she teases. “Here I was hoping for _dirty_.”

“I think we can find a compromise.”

He leans forward, bringing her leg with him, and he loves how flexible she is, her foot above her head and her knee next to her ear, held there by his shoulder. He thrusts into her, and the position brings him deep inside her, and he’s sure that _this_ is what they were made for, _this_ is why they were ever created to walk God’s green earth.

She’s coming underneath him, and he thrusts harder, challenging himself to make her come again before he does. He brings her foot down from his shoulder, wrapping her leg around his hips, and he pounds into her as she clutches his face against her neck, little “ah, ah, ahs” escaping from her throat. He slides his hand up to her breast, and tugs at her nipple, and she cries out, and he feels her come a second time. He’s nearly there, so he doesn’t break his rhythm, and he comes before her body has stopped shaking from her orgasm.

He kisses her lazily until he feels her relax underneath him, then he pulls out and climbs out of bed to throw away the condom. When he turns back to the bed, Mattie is already out cold, face down and sprawled out with no consideration for anyone else trying to share the bed. And he has to laugh, because that’s a part of her that he loves, too, the part that will stave off exhaustion until she finishes what she started. He thinks that she’d make a beautiful drawing, her nude figure all smooth lines and perfect curves. But he’ll never draw her nude, never risk exposing her like that. He pulls up the covers instead, pulls on his jeans and undershirt, turns out the lights (not that she’d care), and closes the bedroom door behind him.

He reads in the front room for a few hours. He notices that the sun is getting in his eyes from the west-facing windows, and adjusts his seat, sitting up from where he was lying on the couch. As he settles back, he hears the bedroom door open, and the faintest, barely-audible sound of her moving across the room. Her arms snake around his neck from behind, her hands draping down his chest, and she kisses his cheek.

“Have a good nap?” he says, putting down the book.

“Mmm,” she hums contentedly into his ear. “Sorry I passed out.”

“It’s OK, you were tired. You hungry?”

“Starving.”

“There’s food in the kitchen - I’ll grab some.”

“I can -“

“No, you just sit down and relax.”

So she does, and when she comes around the couch, he sees that she’s only wearing her panties and his shirt. She curls up, pulling her bare legs up onto the couch.

“What have we got?” she says.

“Uh, Alain left some cheese and bread…”

“Sounds great.”

“Do you want wine?”

“Love some.”

He pulls out the food and puts it on the coffee table in front of her. While he’s opening the wine, he says, “I got you something, by the way.”

“Yeah?”

“When we were in Japan.” He puts the bottle down on the table with the glasses, then goes to the bedroom to retrieve her present. She’s pouring the wine when he holds it out to her, and she takes it from his hand: a USB stick.

“What’s on it?” she says.

“Everything we could find on the Hand and the Chaste.” She doesn’t say anything, just turns it over in her palm. “That’s why we went to Japan. We needed to keep moving, and you always said that the Hand were still out there, so I thought…we could do the recon that you can’t. So you’re better prepared, next time.”

“I…Steve, you didn’t have to -“

“I wanted to.” He reaches out and brushes his thumb against her cheek. “Anything for my girl.”

That makes her smile. She holds the USB against her lips for a moment, like a rosary, before she puts it down on the coffee table.

“I’ll go over it when I get home,” she says. “But right now…” She picks up the wine glasses and offers him one. “I’ve got better things to do.” She offers her glass in a toast, and he clinks his against hers. She takes a drink, then puts down the glass. “OK, that cheese smells incredible, I need to try some.”

“Well…” Steve cuts a little wedge and holds it out. She leans forward and takes it in her mouth. As she eats, she makes a happy little moan that is only barely this side of pornographic.

“Fuck it,” she says. “Let’s stay here and live on wine and cheese and sex.”

Steve laughs. “I think Alain might object to that.”

“Enh, I’m _very_ good at convincing people…” Then she gets distracted by the cheese again. It doesn’t last long, and once it’s gone, she leans back, holding her wine glass, her bare legs draped over Steve’s lap. “So what are you reading?” she says, gesturing at his book with her glass.

“ _To Kill a Mockingbird_. Sam told me I had to read it.”

“Oh, I love that book!”

“You’ve read it?”

“Yeah, it was my favorite book in high school. It’s half the reason I became a defense attorney. Wait, didn’t I put it on your list?” He knows the list she means, the list of movies and TV shows and music and books that would catch him up to the present.

Steve shakes his head. “No, it wasn’t on it.”

“Seriously? It should have been, it’s a classic.”

“That’s what Sam said.” He chuckles.

“What?”  


“No, I’m just imagining you at fourteen, dreaming of becoming Atticus Finch.”

She smiles, and nudges his leg with her foot. “Who says I stopped dreaming of that?” She takes a sip of wine. “It’s been ages since I read it.”

“I could read it to you.”

She shakes her head. “Mm, you’re probably already halfway through.”

“I’m not that far in.” He strokes the soft skin of her thigh. “I’d like it.”

“You sure?”

“Am I lying?”

She rolls her eyes. “OK, I believe you.”

Grinning, he reaches over her legs and picks up the book, flipping to the first page.

“Chapter One,” he says. “‘When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow…’”

He reads her the book over the weekend. It’s not a long book, and they make it most of the way through (he promises to read the rest to her during their phone conversations). As he reads, he sees Mattie in Atticus Finch, the lawyer who wants to make the world a better place. But she’s not just Atticus, she’s also Scout, the girl who leads with her heart and her fists. And she’s Boo Radley, too, the protector in the shadows.

And when Atticus teaches Jem and Scout his definition of courage, Steve thinks that he suddenly understands Mattie better than he ever did before. 

_It’s when you know you’re licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what._

**Author's Note:**

> It's summer, it's hot out, and I wanted to write something fluffy. So, here you go. :)
> 
> Edit from July 2017: Am I allowed to gloat that the new footage from Infinity War shows Steve with a beard and Natasha with blonde hair?


End file.
